Page 43 of Crossfire Creek Siege

Gage huffed out a sharp, humorless breath. “Of course she is.”

The anger coiled low in his gut again. Corrine didn’t just want to survive this, she wanted Noah finished. And she wasn’t bothering to pretend otherwise anymore.

“Corrine told Noah he should resign,” Gage reminded them. “Guess this is the next play.”

“She didn’t get traction manipulating him directly,” Rena added, “so she’ll try this angle now.”

Sheriff Chase rubbed her temples. “I’m working damage control. Right now, none of the agencies are biting. They know how often we deal with false retaliation claims tied to military contractors and intel groups. But if Corrine keeps screaming loud enough?”

He didn’t need her to finish. He could feel it. The storm that hadn’t passed at all, just shifted. But if Corrine thought Crossfire Ops was going down without a fight, she was about to be deeply disappointed.

At the sound of footsteps, Gage looked out into the bullpen. Rhett Danner stormed through the door with his lawyers flanking him, two suits who looked as if they’d rather be anywhere else.

“This is Noah’s doing,” Rhett snapped, his voice dripping venom as his gaze zeroed in on Gage and Rena. “He sends his little soldiers to dig through my life and then drags me back here like I’m some kind of criminal.”

Gage had dealt with angry men before, ones who thought fury could make up for guilt. Rhett’s posture, defensive and loud, reeked of both.

Sheriff Chase didn’t even flinch. She motioned toward the hallway that led to the interview rooms. “Come with me.”

She began reciting Rhett’s rights as they walked, and Rhett clearly didn’t like that. He gritted his teeth, muttering curses under his breath, but he followed. The two lawyers trailed close behind, one already pulling out his phone as if he was preparing to record every word.

Gage and Rena exchanged a glance, then followed down the corridor, turning into the small observation room next door. The space was dimly lit, a narrow window giving them a clear view of the interrogation table. A microphone glowed red on the desk, live and recording. Through the glass, they could see Rhett drop heavily into the metal chair, his glare fixed straight ahead.

“He looks cornered,” Rena murmured.

Gage watched the man’s rigid shoulders and the anger burning just beneath his skin. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s see what happens when the walls close in.”

Sheriff Chase powered on the recorder, her tone even and clipped as she read in the case information. After she had the lawyers say their names for the recording, she added her own, Brady’s, and the time and date. Then, she swiveled the tablet around, the photo of the hangar and the helicopter pad filling the screen.

“Mr. Danner, have you ever been to this facility?” she asked.

From the observation room, Gage leaned forward slightly, watching every flicker across Rhett’s face. The man looked at the photo for barely a second before scoffing, sitting back with a derisive snort.

“No,” Rhett snarled.

Sheriff Chase didn’t flinch. “Interesting. Because your DNA was recovered from that site.”

The reaction was instant. Rhett’s chair scraped the floor as he bolted halfway upright. “That’s bullshit,” he snapped, color flooding his face. “They planted it, Crossfire Ops, or maybe that viper Corrine. She’s trying to frame me for that attack.”

Gage watched his jaw tighten, muscles twitching like a live wire. The lawyers on either side were murmuring urgently, trying to calm him down, but Rhett was beyond listening.

“Mr. Danner,” Sheriff Chase said, her voice steady but harder now, “I’ll remind you this is being recorded. You’re denying ever visiting the site where your DNA was found?”

Rhett slammed his palms on the table. “I said it was planted.” His glare shot toward the mirror, toward Gage and Rena on the other side of the glass, as if he somehow knew they were watching. “Noah’s framing me. That’s what this is. He wants me to pay for something that was his fault.”

The lawyers both rose halfway out of their seats, one saying sharply, “Rhett, sit down. Now.”

But Rhett just shook his head, breathing hard, his voice cracking under the strain. “You people think you can make me the scapegoat? Not this time.”

“He’s not just angry,” Gage murmured to Rena. “I think he’s scared.”

Of course, that didn’t make him less dangerous.

Gage leaned a shoulder against the wall, eyes still on Rhett through the glass. The man was pacing now, muttering while his lawyers tried to calm him.

“The DNA alone won’t stick,” Gage said quietly. “Sheriff’s smart, but she knows it too. The lawyers’ll demand independent testing, claim contamination. Hell, they’ll say she’s working for Crossfire Ops.”

Rena nodded, her voice low. “And they’ll make it sound convincing. Even guilt looks innocent when there’s a good lawyer spinning it.”